


Heaven and Home Again

by petrichorister



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Lifespan Difference, Some changes to canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 05:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1415989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petrichorister/pseuds/petrichorister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night before her final fight with Alduin, questions of the afterlife keep the Dragonborn from sleeping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Questions

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this on FF a few weeks ago, and figured I'd go ahead and post this and my one other fic here, too. Anyways, this is the first fic I've wrapped up and posted about my Bosmer DB, Oslaine. I have a couple other things I've been working on about her (e.g., how she ended up marrying Farkas, something or other about their babies, blah blah blah), but I've yet to make any of them a cohesive story. If I get my crap together on any of those, I'll post them and make it a series of short fics that hopefully have some sort of internal consistency. We'll see.  
> Bethesda owns Skyrim. I just like playing with the world they've created.

"What are you doing up?"

It was a simple enough question, Oslaine supposed. She could have answered any number of ways. She could have said that she'd had a nightmare. In truth, her greatest nightmare was coming to an end, and she'd been able to sleep without restless visions since she had cured herself of the beast blood at the Tomb of Ysgramor.

She could have told him that she was nervous about what the end of her journey as Dragonborn meant. She could have mentioned that the past year had been the most exciting she'd ever experienced in her otherwise dull life. After all, that was true. She'd been swept up into a world she hadn't expected at Helgen, and ended up discovering that she was a hero of Nord prophecy, despite being a Bosmer herself. As of right now, Odahviing was trapped in Dragonsreach, and she was preparing for what was supposed to be her final fight with Alduin. If she survived, and she  _had_  to, this would all be a strange, dream-like memory.

She could have just said that her duties as Harbinger had been weighing on her mind. To be fair, that was somewhat related to her problems. It was her entanglement with the Companions that had her up, but it wasn't that she was worried about guiding them. She knew that, if all else failed, she had already given Aela the role of deputy Harbinger in her absence and told the Nord woman to take over the role permanently if she failed to return within the month.

In the most honest version of the truth, all of these played a small part in why Oslaine was sitting in a chair on the back lawn of Jorrvaskr with her head in her hands. None of them, however, were the whole reason, or even the most important part.

Oslaine took a deep breath before she finally answered her husband truthfully. "Elves don't go to Sovngarde."

Silence pervaded the space behind her as Farkas took in her words. Slowly, the thud of his feet on the stone patio approached her, and, before she knew it, he had swung one of the other chairs around so that he could sit facing her. His figure was barely visible for all the tears stuck in her eyes. "You're worried about the fight."

"Not really," she said. It wasn't a lie. She'd killed several dragons, each one more deadly than the last, and, with the help of the Greybeards, she was as ready as she could possibly have been to face Alduin. "Not any more than I should be, at least."

"But you're still worried."

"A little, I guess." She wiped some of the tears from her eye with the heel of her hand, but that seemingly only served to loosen them and let them run freely down her face. "If I die-"

"You won't," he interrupted, frowning.

" _If_  I die," she repeated, "I want you to promise me something."

He didn't respond verbally this time, only offering a grunt and a slight nod.

She tried to steady her voice as she looked him in the eyes. "I want you to move on with your life. Find bigger and better jobs, maybe even work with the Jarl and become Thane of Whiterun. You could do it, you know. I want you to get married again. Find a sweet little Nord woman, someone who won't die in battle. Maybe a barmaid or something. Marry her, and have cute, chubby little babies that call you Papa and throw up on your shirts when you burp them. Do that for me."

His brow knitted together as he shook his head. "I can't."

"Please." She forced a smile. "Just promise me that."

"I can stay with the Companions," Farkas sighed as he leaned forward to her, "but I'll never remarry. I don't care what happens. I'm yours until the Divines take me, and I'll be yours again after it all." His hand folded over hers as he tried to comfort her.

The tears didn't stop pouring from Oslaine's eyes as she stared at him. "And what if I don't die?"

"Then I'll be a very happy man."

"That's not what I mean." She did her best to compose her thoughts while his thumb glossed back and forth over the back of her hand. "Farkas, how much do you know about elves?"

"Well," he responded slowly, "I know things you've told me. Like how there's the Green Pact, which you don't take part in, and that they invented the bow. And I know that you don't get sick easy, even without the beast blood."

"Do you know how long we live?"

Farkas' thumb slowed as he heard her question. His palm squeezed around her hand. "You think you're going to outlive me."

"If I don't die in battle," she said, trying to keep her tears from worsening, "I'll live to be two hundred and fifty, give or take. Maybe I have two hundred years left, at least. And you've got, what? Fifty?" Her voice was hitching as she thought about it. "That gives me a hundred and fifty years without you. And then you'll go to Sovngarde, and I won't be able to follow." She tried to ignore the lump rising in her throat. "Farkas, I can't do that."

A look of fear and incredulity swept over his features as he looked at her. "Do you  _want_  to die in battle?"

"No, but I..." She couldn't find a good way to end that sentence. It certainly wasn't that she planned on being killed by sword, hers or otherwise. Dying held no appeal. But a life without him seemed terrifying, and drawing his life out was impractical, if not impossible. Just the thought of it made her feel sick to her stomach. And an afterlife without him? Gods, that was even worse.

Her thoughts were cut short when Farkas raised her hand to his face and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

"Oslaine," he said as he drew his lips away, "if you think for one second that I won't find you again once we're dead, then you have got another think coming. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, that can keep me from you. Not Alduin, not death, not even the doors to Shor's Hall."

"Farkas, I-"

"Nothing."

From the look on his face, he meant every word that he said. It would not do to argue with him now, not when she was leaving so soon. She wanted to go to sleep, and she wanted to hold him, if only because a small part of her worried it would be the last time.

"I can go with you, if you want."

"You'll do no such thing," she stated as firmly as she could manage. "The dragon will only carry one." It almost looked like he was going to argue, so she stood up, pulling on his hand as she moved. "Come on. Let's go to bed."

When they returned to their quarters, she slept in his arms, as she always did. His grip on her was tighter than normal, as though she might disappear in her sleep and he might lose her forever, but she didn't mind. For a short while, she could ignore her life and what lay ahead, all else would cease to matter, and they could sleep soundly until morning and the call of dragons separated them.


	2. Answers

"Harbinger."

The old shade in front of her smiled as Oslaine addressed him. After she had defeated Alduin and raised the mists of Sovngarde, she decided to stay around for a short while, if only to ensure that all the lost souls could make their way to the Hall of Valor. And she was so glad she had, for an old friend who had died because of her own poor timing was there to speak to her. If she didn't know any better, she would say he was completely alive before her, flesh thick and skin unmarred from the events of his final battle.

"I ought to be addressing you as such," Kodlak responded softly, opening his arms to bring her in for an embrace.

"Kodlak, I'm so sorry," she said, burying her face in his shoulder.

"What for?" His hand patted her back as she looked back up at him. "You saved me once, from Hircine's hunting grounds, and then again, from the World-Eater himself. I can only thank you for that." His smile warmed her heart. "Come. Walk with me, lass."

The two strolled through the beautiful fields and around the mountain where Alduin had once perched, taking in their last moments before being separated forever. It was nice, getting this chance to say farewell, after she had failed to protect him in battle. She'd seen him once at the Tomb of Ysgramor, true, but that had been brief, and he had been a mere apparition.

"Tell me," he said pensively, "how are the Companions faring?" "

Well enough," Oslaine responded, drinking in the sights around her. "Farkas, Vilkas, and I have all rid ourselves of the beast blood. Aela hasn't, of course, no matter how often I tried to convince her, but I'm sure you would have expected that."

"It would go against her nature to do so," he murmured in agreement.

"We decided to convene before offering the beast blood to any potential members of the Circle. We'll give the option to those who wish for it, but we would not force any to condemn themselves just for a higher spot in the ranks. We were planning on offering a place to Njada, especially if I were to fail to return. Athis may have been here longer, but she's the strongest."

"A wise choice. Mind she doesn't tear your arm off."

Oslaine laughed. "I suspect she won't, if we do let her in." She thought for a moment, trying to remember other new developments. "Farkas and I got married."

"Did you, now?" This news seemed to surprise him. "I'm glad to hear it. Love is difficult to find, especially amongst those whose lives are so closely entwined with war and death. Make the most of your life while it is still yours to make."

He smiled again at her, warmly enough to make her almost forget about her fears regarding her marriage and the memories her own words had just brought up. It was almost enough to convince her that everything would be fine, and that she would return to age by her husband's side. She could almost ignore the gnawing worries at the pit of her stomach.

Almost.

Her face must have been twisted with the thoughts she had shared with her husband the other evening, because Kodlak's smile faded rather quickly. "Something troubles you."

"Yes," Oslaine admitted in a whisper.

"What?"

"I fear that he'll die before me."

Kodlak mused on her words for a moment as they walked. "That is a common fear amongst warriors. My own wife died far too long before I did, and I have no doubt she'll be waiting for me beyond the doors to the Hall of Valor."

Oslaine blinked at the information. "I never knew you were married."

The old Nord nodded. "She, too, was a Companion, slain in battle before she could become a member of the Circle."

"Did she know about the curse?"

"Oh, she knew. She knew from my telling her, and from the fact that she was preparing to take the beast blood within the month. Korsepona knew."

"That's not a Nord name." The words flew out of Oslaine's mouth before she could stop them.

"Korsepona was no Nord." He smiled as he thought of her. "She was the only member of the Companions taller than me, and I hadn't the strength to resist her charms. Even as the rest of Skyrim turned against her kind during the Great War, I fought by her side."

"She was an Altmer, then?" When he nodded, something clicked at the back of Oslaine's mind. "Then why do you expect to find her here? I thought Sovngarde was for Nords alone. Some sort of 'no elves allowed' policy."

"I've heard the same sentiment from many," he mused, "but I doubt its truth. What do Aedra and Daedra care about blood and lineage? It is the decisions you make in your life that decide your afterlife. Until you helped, I was doomed to the Hunting Grounds, was I not? Hircine cared little for whether or not I was a Nord. It was my decision to take the beast blood that would have sent me there. And it was my faith in Talos and my decision to fight bravely in battle that brought me here." His smile widened as the Hall of Valor came back into sight. "What was it Skjor used to say? Something to the effect of 'even an elf can be born with the heart of a Nord,' if I remember correctly. Perhaps that may not have been the most eloquent of compliments on his part, but, to an extent, I believe he was right. It is not blood, but  _heart_ , that chooses our fates."

The words rang comforting in Oslaine's ear. "Do you think they'll allow me back into the Hall of Valor now?"

"You've saved Sovngarde. I expect they'll let you enter."

The whalebone bridge was steady beneath their feat as they approached the hall. It was rewarding, seeing the Nord heroes and warriors enter with the dignity they had been denied while Alduin had control of the plane.

The moment they stepped foot inside, Kodlak's eyes locked with a figure far on the other side of the enormous building. From the way his face lit up, Oslaine knew that he had been right about his wife waiting for him. Had she not known better, she may have mistaken the pair for young sweethearts, perhaps two who had just married and who had the entire world waiting for them. Well, if there was hope for them...

Maybe she would be lucky after all.


	3. Aftermath

The journey home from the Throat of the World was unbearably long. What Oslaine wouldn't have given for a chance to simply vanish from the top of that mountain and find herself in Whiterun once again, to not have to journey past trolls and wolves and bears when she was so ready to return to her husband and her friends. She considered asking one of the dragons to take her, but riding one of the great winged beasts all the way there would probably go unappreciated by the citizens of the city she called home.

Instead, after a brief rest and more than a few generously given stamina potions, she trudged down the mountain from High Hrothgar and into the unforgiving wilderness. It was a trip she'd made before, and, honestly, it was one she had hoped never to make again. For whatever condolences they were worth, the obstacles she encountered were all easier than Alduin had been. Honestly, at this point, they felt more like nuisances than anything else.

The gates of Whiterun were a welcome sight, even if the guards eyed her with fear and awe. She could easily ignore the glances thrown to her, the whispers of " _Dragonborn_ " that were passed along from citizen to citizen, the surprised children pointing at her, as she made her way through the streets with one goal in mind.

When she reached the doors of Jorrvaskr, she was greeted by a sudden halt in activity. The hall was completely silent for a moment as three of the Companions looked up at her in surprise. Aela, Ria, and Torvar hurriedly dropped their mead as they scampered to their feet to welcome back their Harbinger and find her food and a seat.

"No, please, I'm fine," Oslaine told them as she slipped out of the room and down the stairs. She would celebrate with everyone later, but first, she had someone to speak to.

The doors to her suite were open as she approached. From the end of the hallway, she could see Farkas and Vilkas engaged in a deep conversation. It almost felt wrong to disturb them, but this was important, and, besides, she had been through enough already. She wasn't about to wait for them.

The two didn't look up from their conversation until she cleared her throat.

Farkas jumped from his seat when he saw her, immediately moving to press a kiss to her lips. Vilkas may have muttered something about coming back at a better time as he shuffled away, but that was inconsequential, as the couple were too engulfed in each other's presence to listen. As soon as his twin was gone, Farkas pushed the doors to the sitting room closed and dragged Oslaine to the bedroom, shutting the doors to that behind him as well. His lips never once left hers in the process.

He finally pulled away once they were safely inside their room. His eyes raked over her, looking for injuries.

"I'm fine," she said. "The walk home was the hardest part." When his brow knitted in confusion, she clarified. "It was just so long, and I was already tired. I was as ready as I could have been to fight Alduin. And I didn't have to fight alone."

As Farkas sat himself on the edge of the bed, he pulled her with him, bringing her into his lap as his hands latched to her waist. "As long as you're safe," he murmured before taking her into another welcome kiss.

She might have let him kiss her for ages. She might have not stopped him from taking off her clothing and letting her feel his touch over every curve of her body. It was certainly tempting, to just relax into his arms and ignore all other thoughts, but she had a purpose in talking to him tonight, and she would see it through, even if it meant she had to breathe her message directly into his mouth.

"I saw Kodlak."

This time, when Farkas pulled away, his eyes were filled not with worry, but with wonder. "He made it to Sovngarde after all."

Oslaine nodded. "And I spoke to him, and I told him how the Companions were doing. I told him that we all cured ourselves, and about how we got married. He approves, by the way." She smiled as he pulled her even closer. "And I met his wife."

Farkas' eyes widened in surprise. "You did?"

"Did you know her?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, "but I don't remember her well. She died when I was just a kid. I remember Kodlak and Skjor arguing about where she'd go in the afterlife." He gave a gruff snort as he thought over the memory. "Guess Kodlak won that argument."

"I guess he did. But that's not the important part." She took in a deep breath as she composed herself in her head. "Even if she hadn't been there, I've been guaranteed a place in Sovngarde when I die, which I don't plan on doing anytime soon," she added when he looked like he was going to interject. "No matter what happens to either of us, I can know that I will always be able to see you again."

He grinned widely as she leaned her chest against his. "Told you so."

"Yes," she responded quietly, letting out the slightest laugh in the process. "Yes, you did. Thank you."

"I love you," he said before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Oslaine wrapped her arms around his neck. "I love you, too."

Despite how much she wanted to continue talking to him, she needed to sleep first. The journey home had been far too long for her to stay awake much longer, especially if the Companions upstairs expected a feast that evening to celebrate her return. She slept soundly for a couple of hours, allowing herself a chance to rest with her husband curled up warmly beside her. Whether he slept or not, she didn't know, but his presence was comforting.

When she woke, he was awake by her side, and he waited for her to get ready before leading her up to the mead hall, where she would regale everyone else with her stories of Sovngarde and of Kodlak. The whole lot of them looked at her with a bizarre reverence. Throughout the evening, the group shared memories and mead, and, for the first time in what felt like a very long time, Oslaine felt absolute peace of mind.

Divines, it felt good to be home.


End file.
